


Stories from Home

by illiana



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 17:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illiana/pseuds/illiana
Summary: That's what you do; you tell stories from home to remind yourself of where you came from and what's ahead of you.Interminably long drives are tricky creatures, but Jacques comes prepared. This is a conversation along the way.





	Stories from Home

So it's late, and they're driving; it's all open road and endless sky with more stars than you've ever seen, and no end in sight. Neither of them have any idea how long it's been, and that's the problem with a long drive, isn't it. If no one remembers to jot down the time you left and how many miles you started with, there's no telling if it'll be an hour of driving or twenty before you find your destination.

So it's been awhile, and Olivia's legs are cramping, and Jacques is wishing that cruise control was a thing available to him, and the car is the world, heaven and hell all at once; movement is freedom and movement is a trap, and tonight they're stuck here and tomorrow they'll be stuck here and no one followed the superstitions so they'll be stuck here forever in the car in the desert on the road under the sky, following signs and driving driving driving.

The other problem, of course, with a long drive, is that inevitable dearth of things to talk about. Doesn't matter how long you've known your partner, or how well you know them (and Olivia and Jacques think they know each other very well by now) -- eventually the road sucks up any conversation and turns the air to silence and musing and the darkest thoughts imaginable, and that's just the way it goes.

But Jacques knows, because Jacques has spent days and nights in a taxi, moving and staying still, sleeping and eating and living. He knows when to stop and stretch and when to call a bathroom break when no one needs it, and he knows when to press on until the destination because if you stop now you'll never get going again. He knows people, too; knows when to comfort and when to let alone and when to push, so he feels the way Olivia's silence turns dark and stops it before anything can go wrong.

"Kit went on a mission to a university, once," he opens.

"Oh?" Olivia asks.

"Only for a semester, and she always promised to go back. She brought back some good ideas though." Jacques waits a moment, lets Olivia muse on this, and then says, "It's something college students do: in the in between moments during the worst part of midterms or finals, or after it's all over, they tell stories of home."

"I'm sure it helps to combat homesickness," Olivia offers.

"It keeps them human," Jacques says. "Keeps  _us_  human."

"This is an in between moment then," Olivia states, and it isn't any kind of question so Jacques smiles because it means she understands.

"Indeed."

"What stories did Kit share?"

"Anything will do," Jacques assures. "Anything about home."

"What if you don't know where home is?" Olivia counters, and there's a flirt somewhere under the heavy words.

Jacques laughs, low and easy. "Then you talk about the past. Doesn't matter how far back it is."

"My first apartment had mismatched dishes I bought from yardsales," Olivia offers. "No two were alike. Everything was brightly colored and some of them were floral, a couple had animals on them." She shrugs. "When I got the librarian job at Prufrock, I bought new ones, all matching with a blue border, and packed up the others. I couldn't bear to get rid of them, so I left them with my parents. I miss the colors."

"Kit briefly adopted a cat and named him Lemon, after our brother, when we thought he was dead," Jacques says, because it's half morbid and the first thing that comes to mind following Olivia's somber tone.

"Oh!" She exclaims, and he really can't blame her, that's a dark one to share. "Was he at least.... yellow?"

"Nope, he was fiercely orange."

Olivia laughs and Jacques laughs too, and it's important so he concludes, "He lives a peaceful life with Jacquelyn now."

"I had a kitten when I was little. He was the most stubborn creature I've ever met. He brought me a dead mouse once, and I panicked when he dropped it on my lap. I jumped, so he jumped, and he knew I didn't appreciate it so he banished himself outside for a week."

"How did you get him back?"

"I bribed him with tuna." Olivia grins.

"Olivia Caliban!" Jacques protests.

"I was eight!"

"Fair enough," he concedes. "I never had any cats, but I did have an incredibly fat lizard that lived in the yard and ate dandelions when I offered them to him."

"Were.... dandelions his preferred food?"

"I doubt it, but he certainly enjoyed them."

Olivia laughs and leans back. "When I turned eighteen I thought that I was going to travel the world and do glorious things. Instead I moved four towns away and had to take any job I could get to get by. That's why that first apartment was filled with penny dishes that people practically paid me to get off their hands."

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. Things were simple then. I'd get up early on the weekends to watch the sun rise with a cup of strong tea and a good book. That was the best time for dreaming, right when the day was beginning and everything seemed possible. When I heard about Prufrock, it seemed like kismet. Like that was the road I'd been waiting for, the path to fulfilling my dreams."

"It was," Jacques assures her. "You joined a noble organization because of your job at Prufrock Preparatory School, and volunteers frequently travel. I'll take you to our headquarters up in the Mortmain mountains someday. The architecture is wonderful."

Olivia is staring at him, so he turns enough to see her smile. "That sounds amazing." She pauses and then adds, "This is the first proper road trip I've ever taken."

"Oh, no," he corrects her, "this is hardly a road trip at all. More a desperate chase."

"Well," she persists, "a true road trip with you must be a truly incredible thing then."

"We'll take a proper one someday," he promises. "When the Baudelaires are safe, we'll all pack up into a car and bring snacks and plan some sightseeing."

"I would like that very much," Olivia says, and he hears the grin in her voice just as he feels the air shift into something comfortable, like the road's given them their words back. It's safe then, to let the silence drift back, or to talk about anything else.

The thing about the road, though, is that it's still a liminal space of its own. Anything can happen, and anything can come out right, so Jacques says, "I love you."

"I love you too, Jacques Snicket," she says without hesitation, and the dark road in front of them stretches forward with hope and possibility and an impossibly large future.

So they drive.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly though, sharing stories about home is the best way to decompress after tests and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. (Also I'll reply to comments soon, now that the semester is over!!)


End file.
